“No, I will,” she snapped, then added under her breath, “I fix everything.”
She stormed off in the wrong direction, muttering curses to herself.
“The parking lot is this way,” he called, gesturing over his shoulder.
She grumbled something unintelligible but adjusted her path, trudging ahead without looking back.
They walked in silence. Now and then her eyes slid to his, lingering before looking away. Was she piecing together moments from last night, like he was?
It was blurred images, slurred conversations, and heated touches.
How did this happen?
“I’m Nia,” she blurted, stumbling. He reached for her instinctively, but she raised a hand to stop him.
“I’m Lochlan,” he offered.
“The Unwanted Heir?” she asked, her brows scrunching as if she’d expected someone different.
A flush climbed his neck, and he looked away, focusing on the path ahead.
The title would never leave him. Even after all these years carefully fading into the background, it still found him: a reminder of a past he had no control over and a kingdom that had begun to fall the moment the world learned he existed.
His mother had kept her pregnancy a secret. After his birth, he’d been quietly placed in his father’s care, raised unseen among the castle’s staff. He grew up never knowing he had a half-sister and brother—two children the queen had claimed and presented to the world while he remained hidden in the shadows. Lochlan had been thirteen when his father died, leaving him alone with servants who had no idea what to do with a boy who was never meant to exist. Then one of them had talked. One whisper turned into many, until the truth spread beyond the castle walls.
The scandal had been immediate, a wildfire that tore through the monarchy. The queen’s affair with a castle gardener, they’d called it. But his father had been far more than that. He was a powerful herb witch—his magic hidden, just like the child they had conceived.
Lochlan’s thoughts swirled through the dark memories until Nia broke the silence.
“I actually have experience with this kind of mess,” she said.
Lochlan grimaced. A mess. That’s what his mother had called him—a problem she’d tried to hide.
“Not for me,” Nia added quickly. “I would never get caught married.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Well… never again,” she muttered, waving a hand in the air. “Ugh, I need coffee and a lawyer.”
The mention of a lawyer made him think of Becket. Had he made it home safely? Lochlan would call him as soon as he found a charger and this was all sorted out. At least he would get a good laugh out of the situation.
Lochlan held a low branch up so Nia could duck under it safely. She blinked up at him, her expression briefly thankful before shifting into frustration. It was oddly endearing. The darkness that had clung to him moments ago loosened its grip, even as she grumbled about the mess they were in. A mess. That’s what she’d called their predicament. Not him.
“Anyway,” she said, “someone I know got into a similar situation, and I was able to get her out of it easily. Half an hour of paperwork, and this whole thing will be annulled. Then we can just forget it ever happened.”
Forget it ever happened. He could never forget Nia, or the way it had felt to hold her in his arms, or the shape of her body beneath the stars. She was seared into his memory.
“Shit,” she said. They arrived at the parking lot and all that waited for them was his ancient truck. “I came with my partner.”
“Partner?” he asked, startled.
“My business partner,” she clarified. “And best friend.”
He nodded in understanding, breathing a little easier.
“I can drive us.” He gestured to the truck.
A question flashed in her eyes and he wished he had the courage to ask her what it was, what she felt, besides regret.
